The man with a distant desire for love, François-Régis Bastide

"His car was covered in dust caked on by sea salt. He left Mittelburg and soon spotted a gas station. He chose the most comprehensive wash program, including special polishing. The duration was even indicated: eighteen minutes (...) Under the blue rollers and streams of foam, he thought that he was in the only place where a man could cry peacefully (...), and he often whistled. He thought once again of Prince Andrei's question, seeing Natasha pass by: "Why is she happy?" And he turned it over and over, also trying "unhappy," sometimes with Queen Ilma, sometimes with Susah the Black. And it seemed to him that this tremendous curiosity was indeed the central question of every novel. One day he would write a novel, to answer this single question. It would not be one of those roman à clefs that he detested. He would tell everything. For example, to recount his stay in Villanovia, he would not invent an overly convenient imaginary country. He would write the longest dispatch of his short diplomatic career. He would try to make it complete, detailed, but simple, in the first person singular; the most modest of persons, contrary to popular belief. He whistled again (...) He slowly took the road to Trieste."